


A Patchwork of Blood and Flesh

by Switch842



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Switch842/pseuds/Switch842
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel begins to fall, but it’s not quite like he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Patchwork of Blood and Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Horror Comment Fic/Art Fest](http://community.livejournal.com/sharp_teeth/2807.html) on LJ. Set between 4x20 & 4x21.
> 
>  **Prompt:** Jimmy is long dead, and Castiel's grace is sputtering out inside his corpse. The body begins to decompose.

The first clue that something is wrong is the fact the Castiel's cheek itches. Angels don't itch. The second clue is that a chunk of his cheek comes off when Castiel scratches it.

He stares at it, perplexed as to what he's actually seeing. He reaches up to feel his cheek and looks at his hand as it comes away bloody. He can feel the blood as it slowly drips down his cheek and follows the contours of his jawline. He feels it hang there for a moment before it falls and lands on the ground with an audible _splat_. With a sudden epiphany, Castiel knows what is happening to him. He knows that he doesn't have much time and must get to Dean.

Before he can even complete the thought, Castiel is back at Bobby's place where he had last left Sam and Dean after their encounter with Famine. He stands in the entry for a moment, shrouded in the dim light from the little moon that is visible in the night sky. He is still staring at his hand and the blood crusting around his fingernails as Bobby comes rolling in from the kitchen. 

"Hey, Cas. Didja need something?" Bobby asks.

"I think I need...help," he replies, showing Bobby his hand. 

"Dean!" Bobby yells. "Dean! Come on, sit down," he says to Castiel, leading the way into the den.

"I'm coming!" Dean yells from the basement. "Hold your horses."

"Do you need anything?" Bobby asks as they wait for Dean.

"I don't know," Castiel says softly. He scratches at an itch on his forearm and watches as another chunk of his vessel's skin falls heavily to the floor.

"What's with the yelling?" Dean says as he arrives. "Oh, hey, Cas. What's..." 

Dean pauses as he takes in the bloody patches on Cas' skin and the chunks of flesh on Bobby's floor.

"What the hell? Cas, what's going on?"

"I wasn't expecting this," he replies. "But I seem to be...decomposing."

"How is that possible? Shouldn't your angel mojo stop stuff like this from happening?"

"It should. But, lately I've been feeling not quite myself."

"How do you mean?" Bobby asks. 

"Even when I'm here on Earth, I can feel my grace outside myself as if trying to pull free from this vessel. You might compare it to static electricity."

"So, you're falling?" Dean asks, remembering Anna's description.

"It would appear so," Castiel replies. "And what's left is not enough to maintain this body for much longer."

"There must be something we can do," Dean says, turning to Bobby.

"Don't look at me!" he exclaims. "I have no idea what to do about this."

"Cas? Can you stop this?"

"No. Once one begins to fall the result is inevitable. This body will continue to rot and I will lose my grace. It will be painful, but unavoidable." 

As he finishes speaking, the skin from the tip of his finger peels off, leaving a stump of bone exposed, and blood begins to seep into his sock as a chunk of skin from his left shin falls to the wooden floor. 

Castiel can smell the rotting of his flesh as it continues to fall apart around him. The blood is dripping almost constantly now, flowing freely from the exposed wounds, and Castiel can feel his vessel growing weak. He looks over and sees Dean trying to hold his breath, but hiding it. He knows he is disgusting in this state and wants to leave. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

"I should go," he says. "You don't need to see this."

He stands to leave and is stopped by Dean with a hand on his shoulder. Even through the layers of clothing, it comes away bloody from even that slight pressure. It doesn't deter Dean, though, and through his grimace he beckons Castiel to stay.

"You shouldn't be alone during this," he pleads.

"It's all right, Dean," Castiel says. "You have enough to worry about with Sam right now; you don't need to add me to that mix."

"Cas, come on."

"I'll be fine," he says with a sad smile. "I am not the first angel to fall, and I will not be the last. I know what's going to happen, Dean, and I've made my peace with it."

"So, that's it?"

Castiel just nods in response.

"What happens after you fall? I mean, do you get a new body or something? Will you remember anything?"

"I will do my best, but it is difficult to retain all those memories in a purely human form."

"Well, we'll keep our eyes and ears open for any sign that you might be around," Bobby says as Dean remains silent.

"And I will find you if I can," Castiel promises.

"Take care of yourself," Bobby says, holding out his hand.

"I'd better not," Castiel replies as more of his skin keeps dropping to the ground. He looks around and see that he's turning Bobby's rug into a morbid patchwork of blood and flesh. He turns and nods to Dean as he makes his way toward the front door.

"Cas, wait," Dean calls out. He catches up with Castiel on the porch. It's now raining, a fitting tribute to their somber mood, and the half-moon is covered by clouds. The faint light from inside casts them in half-shadow and Dean stares at Cas, as if trying to see more of his face, even in its rotting state. "Are you sure there's nothing you can do?"

"No, Dean. I am sorry to leave you like this, so suddenly. I wish I could do more to help you in your fight, and perhaps I will be of use in the future. But right now, this is my fate."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I am."

"But how? Why?"

Castiel lowers his head and watches as a piece of his neck falls to the wet, wooden slats. 

"Because I know this is my Father's plan, and there is still more in store for me."

"But He's abandoned you. How can you still trust Him after that?"

"We don't know that, Dean. All I know is that my time in this form has come to an end and I must move on now. But I will find you again, Dean. We are bonded more strongly than any two beings. I believe that bond will stay, even when I have fallen."

He sees it in Dean's eyes, the battle he fights with himself. Dean wants to ask him to stay, but doesn't want to beg. Castiel doesn't let on that he knows, and he tries his best to smile. In the short time they've been standing on Bobby's porch, several more large chunks of what had been Jimmy have peeled off and landed wetly on the ground. And even with the rain and surrounding environment, the stench is getting hard to ignore. It is time for Castiel to go.

"Just... take care of yourself, all right?"

"I will do my best." Castiel turns to go, but pauses and looks back at Dean. "Thank you," he says.

"For what?"

Castiel just looks at Dean with a small smile on his face. Without another word, he unfolds his wings and disappears into the night.

_THREE WEEKS LATER_

Sam and Dean are in a diner in a small town outside Charlotte, NC. They're trying to figure out where to go next, what they could do to continue their quest, or if they should take a break and pick up the small case of a probable poltergeist a few towns over. Dean looks up as the chime above the door rings and his breath catches in his throat. The man that enters is generally unremarkable. He has dirty blond hair, cut short and styled simply and is wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans with a gray hooded sweatshirt. But when those eyes turn and Dean makes out their brilliant blue, he knows exactly who just walked into that diner.

Cas is home.


End file.
